


God's envy

by ArtificialCatrina



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 12:12:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15170519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtificialCatrina/pseuds/ArtificialCatrina
Summary: One night, Sharon tries speaking to god, just like Alaska has done many times.





	God's envy

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this being sad as fuck and decided it was gonna be the first thing I posted here - it's also posted in AQ!

The midnight sky started being a home for Sharon a couple of months ago. It’s quiet, bright and she can only stare at it and wonder _why_ has her life taken the way it did. Of course, she knows the sky will never answer, but trying is everything she can do.

She sighs and closes the little cigarette box on the bench, squeezing it between her fingers for a second just to admire how the thin paperboard wrinkles under her strength before pulling it back into her purse. Once the cylinder between her lips is lit up, she pulls the lighter into her pocket and blows a cloud of smoke slowly out.

“God,” she snorts, looking up one more time. The word went out her lips with a mocking tone. “I’ve never believed in you. Why would I? Even if I did, I’m sure you would never believe in me…”

Everything she can hear as a response is the sound of wind moving the leaves on the trees.

“Only a person believes in me,” she says, eyes glued to the few stars visible from her spot. “Her name is Alaska… pretty girl, she does believe in you, maybe you’ve seen her in a church or praying or something like that. You would think someone like her would never be near someone like _me_ , but we’re been dating for nearly four years.”

It’s late and Sharon knows she should be heading home, but there she is, speaking to the air in a lost hope that someone that she knows doesn’t exist hears her.

“You know, she always tries to talk to you. I’ve heard her praying with her mother every night and calling you. I honestly never did it, but today seemed like a good chance so I decided to try. And since Alaska is the only great thing in my life I wanted to talk to you about her. I know I don’t worth any second of your precious time, you must have a ton of shit to do…”

Her voice cracking is the signal to take another drag from the cigarette.

“But she does worth it. She’s the best human on earth and she deserves all of your time. I swear to… well, I swear to _you_ , if you saw her eyes, her hair, or just her smile… you would fall in love with her. She’s so beautiful…”

The stars begin to blurry from the tears forming in her eyes, turning into nothing more than white spots slowly moving across her vision.

“But of course you know that. You’re almighty, or so they say. You can see everything,” Sharon mutters thoughtfully with another blast of cold air blowing her hair. “Maybe that’s why you want to take her with you to heaven.”

Another minute full of dead silence passes until she chokes on a sob, her hand holding the cigarette shaking slightly. “But can’t take her, it’s not her time! Stay away from her!”

The breaking is unavoidable, and before Sharon can say something else, the cigarette has fallen in her hand, burning two of her fingers. She gaps in pain, throwing the cylinder to the ground to mash it into the cement with her boot. She curses, wiping the tears running down her cheeks with the back of the hand that has no bright red marks.

She manages to take her purse and run back to the building a few meters away. The receptionist —who Sharon knows better than she’d like to— turns violently when she sees her state, with swollen eyes and a raised burnt hand, but the girl doesn’t even stare back as she is reaching the elevator in her way to the sixth floor.

Katya is the first person Sharon meets when the doors open. There are dark bags under her eyes and her hair is a mess, which isn’t weird in someone at nearly three a.m.

“Oh my—” the Russian’s eyes widen in shock, her eyes quickly going down to her hand. “What happened to you?”

“None of your damn business,” Sharon states, sneaking by her side to the door marked with the number 503.

Their shoulders collide and Katya places a hand in her upper arm, stopping her for a second in which all the muscles in Sharon’s body tense. “I’m going to the cafeteria, do you want something?”

“No,” Sharon whispers, relaxing. “Is Alaska awake?”

“She probably is,” Katya looks for her eyes, but gives up when Sharon refuses to look back at her. “I’ll go home and take a shower in the morning… you should go too and get some sleep.”

“I will,” the promise hangs in Sharon’s lips, too easy to get out from her that Katya knows is a lie.

“Sharon?”

“Yeah?”

“The doctor came to the room earlier...”

She looks at Katya immediately, her eyes alarmed as a signal for the Russian to keep talking. For the first time in a while her moves are fast and exact, and Katya sighs with regret. She should’ve listened to Trixie and keep Sharon out of the situation.

“What did he say?”

Katya’s mouth is open but there are no words. She recognizes Sharon’s swollen eyes, and her heart feels broken when she decides to let her know.

“He said… hm… it didn’t work.”

Sharon can feel the pressure sinking her heart into her lungs, mashing them. Breathing becomes complicated and she can only let out a shaky sigh, her eyes never leaving Katya’s.

“What?”

“Her body…” Katya mutters under her breath. “Is not responding as it should.”

_This can’t be happening._

“What are they gonna do?” Sharon demands to know in a harsh impulse. Katya shakes her head. “What are they gonna do? Tell me!”

“Is better if you talk to her”

It’s too late when the tears blurry Sharon’s vision again for Katya to say something else.

Her only reaction is to run to the door she has been walking through for the last few months. The air inside smells like alcohol, but not the type she likes, and the white in the walls and in everything she can see is ridiculously bright, and she’s glad the couch next to the door is empty because that means Trixie is not there. She closes the door behind her back and after analyzing her surroundings for a second, she steps closer to the bed.

She admires the nice contrast Alaska’s skin makes with the perfectly clean white sheets even when the lights are off, and the way her hair falls over her shoulders in a gold waterfall. Even the wires and scars in her thin arms look beautiful from Sharon’s eyes. She’s lied on just one side of the bed, and Sharon’s face burns when she tries to swallow a sob, knowing Alaska does that when she asks Sharon to stay the night in the hospital. She would make room for another person in the bed and hug her the rest of the night.

Her eyes are closed and Sharon is glad she’s sleeping because she has _no face_ to look at her now. The shame is stronger than the will to be with her for now, and she sits on the couch just like many times she did before.

However, the noise her purse makes when it falls to the floor makes Alaska open her eyes and while she lifts her head, Sharon curses herself silently.

“Noodles?” she calls, trying to recognize the figure in the darkness of the room.

“Sorry, I woke you up,” Sharon whispers from her spot. The silence makes the distance disappear, and she knows Alaska listened perfectly.

“What time is it?” asks Alaska, sounding lost and small as she blinks a couple of times to get back on her senses, and Sharon winces with her voice.

“It’s late, you should get back to sleep.”

Alaska taps the other side of the bed weakly as an invitation. “Lie down with me.”

Sharon would lie if she said she doesn’t wanna run and hide from the world in the warm embrace of Alaska’s hospital bed. Somehow, the fact that the mattress is horribly firm and uncomfortable never crosses her mind as Alaska wraps her arms around her body, and her soft breathing is the perfect lullaby for Sharon. Wherever Alaska is turns into a home for her.

But she can’t ignore the pain anymore. It _hurts_.

It hurts every time Alaska touches her, because she knows there will be a point where she won’t do it anymore. Sharon knows this will end someday, maybe months or only days in anticipation, and it won’t end as the way she wants. One day Alaska won’t be there to kiss her and hug her and the only thing left will be useless memories in Sharon’s head.

Putting her hopes in the chemicals pulled in Alaska’s body everyday isn’t an option anymore.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a water drop falling on the window. And another, and another following another.

“Fuck, it’s raining,” she notices, standing up in a jump to close the window and avoid water entering the room. She stays a second looking through it to the street besides the hospital; with the night and rain covering the entire city, it looks like the perfect calm scenario.

“Come here,” says Alaska and Sharon suddenly turns around. Her tone makes it difficult to be taken as an order, but her glare crossing Sharon’s body says a lot more. “Please.”

Sharon just has to kick her boots off to lie down in the bed and carefully wrap her arms around the fragile body of Alaska in a tight hug. She tries to focus on the girl lying next to her to forbid her mind to wander and think of how much her heart hurts at Alaska’s contact.

She knows is a game Alaska always wins, especially because she has no idea of the negative thoughts flooding Sharon’s mind and she would never let her know about them because she knows Alaska has enough going on with her health and Sharon may be selfish but she isn’t selfish enough to put her necessities above Alaska’s, and the best thing she can do is ignore the pain.

“Noodles,” Alaska calls and Sharon immediately feels her hand petting her hair.

“Tell me.”

“How was your little walk today?”

“Oh, it was fine.”

 _I cried all the way_.

“Did you go home?”

 _I didn’t, I couldn’t stop thinking that I’ll lose you_.

“Yeah, I had a sandwich for dinner and headed back here. The mayo was expired and the bread was hard as a fuck rock but it tasted good.”

 _Please never leave me_.

“I’m glad to hear that, baby. I know these days have been hard and after the surgery I needed to know if you were fine.”

“Thanks, pumpkin. I’m fine, I promise,” Sharon mutters, clearing her throat. “Hm… Katya told me that the doctor came today.”

“Oh, yes… he did,” Alaska nods uncomfortably.

“And what did he say?”

Alaska’s calm countenance fades slowly and under the weak lights in the room that are provided only from the street, she looks defeated.

“It didn’t work, Noodles.”

Sharon can’t remember of a time Alaska has looked defeated. She has always been like a ball full of energy and happiness, smiling and running from side to side, making everyone laugh. And this girl, sighing and looking tired next to her doesn’t look like the cheerful blonde she met years ago in that party, dancing and drinking around. She doesn’t look like Alaska anymore.

“Alaska…”

“The surgery didn’t work. The tumor is still there.”

Sharon looks up to her when a drop falls on her cheek. Alaska is biting her lower lip as hard as she can to not let any sob out, and if Sharon’s heart hurt before, she’s sure now it’s completely broken.

“Noodles, I don’t wanna die.”

“You’re not gonna die,” she shakes her head, trying to convince Alaska, but the truth is that even Sharon isn’t too sure about it. “Baby, listen; you’ll get out of this.”

“I can’t stand the pain anymore,” Alaska stutters between little sobs. “Is too strong I can’t even get up from my bed… my back hurts and I’m too weak I can’t even open a water bottle.”

Sharon can’t do anything else than hug her even tighter.

“I’m scared,” she confesses in a whisper before hiding her face in Sharon’s neck, the sobs being muffed by her skin.

Tears run down Sharon’s cheeks and she thinks about how much she _hates_. She hates the tumor in Alaska’s body, and the fact that it’s sucking the life out of her, leaving nothing more than an empty shell of what Alaska used to be and she definitely hates god because Alaska’s mother always says “ _god makes things happen for a reason_ ” every day when she insists to pray for her daughter’s health. But her god has never done anything to cure Alaska, and if her mother is right and he does things for a reason, Sharon can’t understand why the fuck he put a tumor in her girlfriend.

“I believe in you, pumpkin. I know you’re in pain, and scared, and you probably want to run away and forget all of this —believe me baby, I want so too— but I know you are more than this. You’re so strong; you can with anything that ever comes to you,” Sharon whispers in Alaska’s ear, rubbing slowly her back. “We’ll find a way and you’ll go back home. Home… with me and Cerrone. We’ll go to the park and to the grocery store and to the beach in our old car like we used to do before. I’m here, with you, pumpkin. I will never leave.”

Alaska relaxes and her breathing becomes slower and slower until her sobs stop. Even though her face is still buried in Sharon’s neck, she knows she’s asleep as she holds her tight and keeps rubbing her back slowly.

“I love you so much,” she says after a while. She doesn’t hope Alaska hears her, but when she looks down, her girlfriend is looking back at her with still watered eyes.

“I love you too… more than anything in this world,” Alaska swears.

She turns and moves her head just a little to connect her lips with Sharon’s. The kiss is soft enough for Alaska’s weak lungs not to break, which she’s glad of. She has always loved closing her eyes just to feel how Sharon moves delicately against her face with her fingers lovingly pressing into her waist, her breathing so heavy Alaska can almost feel it.

When the kiss is broken Sharon’s lips slightly separate as she tries to catch her breath with her eyes still shut and Alaska sighs happily, resting her forehead on hers.

“Make me a promise,” she says then, Sharon opening her eyes immediately for Alaska to meet her curious glare just two inches away from her.

“A promise?”

“If something happens to me…”

“No, no, no,” Sharon cuts her off, knowing exactly what she was going to say. “Nothing is gonna happen to you.”

“You can’t know that,” Alaska reminds her. She swallows hard, blinking a couple of times to wash the tears already forming in her eyes away. “If something happens to me, I want you to go on.”

“Don’t ask me that…”

“God does everything for a reason,” Alaska repeats the words of her mother and Sharon closes her eyes, grimacing painfully. “He has something better in store for you if I’m not here.”

“Nothing is better than you,” she rushes to assure.

“Promise me, Sharon. Promise me you’ll go on without me. Promise me,” Alaska struggles with the wires connected to her arm to raise it to Sharon’s face, wiping the tears with her fingers. “I need to know you’re gonna be fine if I… go.”

“You can’t die,” shaking her head slightly, Sharon leans into her touch. “Don’t give up, not now.”

“I won’t. I don’t wanna die, Noodles, but I can’t do anything if those are god’s plans for me; I’ll have to go, no matter how scared I am…” she says, pursing her lips. “And at least I can do it being brave and making sure you’ll continue your life.”

Sharon wants to scream.

“I can’t imagine a life without you in it, Alaska. I just can’t. I don’t want a world if you’re not there, I don’t want anything if you’re not fucking there because I need you,” she cries in a hiccup. “I don’t wanna to think you’re gonna leave.”

“Me neither,” Alaska swallows a sob and cups Sharon’s face in her hand, caressing her cheek. “But we know it can happen. I just— I want you to be happy. Please, promise me you would be happy.”

Sharon can only find herself to nod slowly. She knows she shouldn’t make promises she can’t keep but her will to please Alaska is bigger than the increasing fear in her being. She wants to mean her promise, no matter how hard it looks to live in a world where she knows Alaska isn’t anymore, but she has to do it. _For Alaska_.

She would do anything for Alaska, even if that means living without her.

It wouldn’t be the first time after all. Sharon moved from her comfortable apartment in Pittsburgh to the busy city of Los Angeles for Alaska when she wanted to chase a ridiculous and nonrealistic at all dream of being a singer. She adopted a stray cat even when she was afraid of it because Alaska thought it was adorable, standing every time Cerrone bit her when Sharon tried to remove the cat from her spot in the bed. Sharon went to every event in the church near the house of Alaska’s parents just to prove she was good enough for their daughter, wearing conservative white blouses instead of her favorite Marilyn Manson t-shirt.

When she was diagnosed, Sharon drove her to every appointment, always waiting in her car outside the hospital. And when she was told she had to stay there, Sharon packed everything in her suitcase. She left Cerrone with her friend Jinkx and packed a suitcase for herself the same night. She slept in the couch in Alaska’s room, she ate the tasteless food the hospital provided, she didn’t sleep when Alaska couldn’t sleep to make her some company.

She stayed all night up the first surgery, walking from a side to another until some doctor told her Alaska was back in her room. She helped her to cure the scars in her body, at which Alaska felt ashamed before Sharon reminded her how beautiful she was. She wiped the tears away when the doctors told them the surgery didn’t work, that they would try with a new drug.

Sharon held her hair back when she leaned to puke into the toilet for the side effects of the million drugs she received every day. She hand fed her when Alaska was too weak to move, she hugged her tight at night when Alaska woke up from her sleep in tears, yelling she just had a nightmare.

It’s tiring and complicated, but Sharon knows she would do it again and again and a million times more for Alaska.

“Noodles…”

“Yes?”

“I know you don’t believe in this, but…” she says in a whisper, almost afraid of letting it out. “I think you’re a miracle.”

Sharon kisses her one more time, slow and deep as they always do and she tries as hard as she can to ignore the hole in her chest and remember how Alaska’s lips feel on hers because she doesn’t wanna forget any little detail about her when memories are everything left.

When the kiss is over Alaska rests her head on Sharon’s shoulder, murmuring _goodnight_. Sharon answers with another _goodnight_ , smaller and almost audible.

Minutes after, in which time she has been staring at the ceiling with her mind blank, she can tell Alaska is already asleep when the only motion in her body is her breathing and Sharon prepares herself to close her eyes and do the same. She feels whole in Alaska’s embrace and relaxed by the soft sound of the rain falling outside to finally fall asleep.

-

“Should we wake her up?”

“She needs the sleep. Let’s wait until the doctors come again.”

Sharon groans. The first thing she notices when she tries to open her eyes are the whispers, and the bright light flooding the room, and then the fact that all the muscles in her body hurt. She rolls her body until her back is flat against the sheets and stares at the ceiling, suddenly feeling the weird amount of space on the bed.

Her eyes widen. She gets up so fast there are black dots running across her vision for a moment, in which her hands palpate the place where Alaska’s body should be. Everything there is sheets and more sheets. Sharon’s heartbeats increase in only seconds; where could have Alaska gone if she’s too weak to get up from bed?

“Alaska?” she calls, immediately pushing herself up on her arms to scan the room. “Lasky, where are you?”

No answer.

“Are you in the bathroom?”

Nothing.

Sharon rushes to get out of the bed and run to the bathroom door, tripping on her boots dropped on the floor in the process. She kicks the door open and whines in despair when she realizes it’s empty. She runs outside, to the side of the bed where Alaska was, only to find the wires that used to be connected to her arms left over the nightstand.

Her brain doesn’t work as it should since it still refuses to wake up completely, but Sharon’s eyes cross the door and she knows her last option is there. She runs barefoot outside, fast enough to crash into someone. She holds the door frame to avoid falling and lifts her head; blonde short hair and ridiculously bright clothes is all she sees, and she recognizes the person in front of her immediately.

“Katya?”

“Sharon,” she looks surprised. “You’re awake.”

“Where is Alaska?” Sharon asks, looking around the hall behind Katya’s shoulders just to make sure Alaska isn’t there. “She didn’t have an appointment planned for this morning, I should have known if she had. Where is she?”

The panic in her tone makes Katya babble incoherently.

“Sharon, you’re awake!” another amused voice sounds before the Russian can think of an answer. She turns around to greet Trixie, holding a cup of coffee with her hair up in a bun.

“Where is Alaska?” she repeats with clear despair seeping from her tone, at which none of her friends respond.

“Come here, let’s sit,” Katya suggests, but by the way she takes Sharon’s arm and sink her nails into the flesh, it doesn’t sound like a suggestion.

They sit on one of the couches in the corridor, the blonde couple with Sharon in the middle. Trixie sips on her coffee and Katya plays with her fingers in her lap and Sharon doesn’t know what’s happening, but whatever it is, it’s destroying her nerves completely.

“Where is Alaska?”

Trixie pulls her coffee down and looks at Katya. For a moment they seem to have a silent fight, mothering things to the other to avoid Sharon listening any of them. Then Trixie sighs, holding her middle finger up for Katya to see it before she turns to her restless friend; Sharon looks at the floor with her teeth deeply sunken on her lip, her hands massaging each other roughly in nervousness.

“Sharon,” she places a hand in her shoulder delicately to get her attention. “Something happened during the night.”

“Something happened to Alaska?” she looks up violently.

“It happened a couple of hours ago but we couldn’t wake you up,” Katya steps into the conversation, glancing at Trixie.

“It happened to Alaska? What was it? Wasn’t she feeling good?” there are tons of questions in Sharon’s mind, and even though she’s scared to ask them all, she organizes her thoughts to only ask some of them, knowing none Trixie or Katya would answer otherwise.

Trixie leans to leave her coffee on the floor and takes both of Sharon’s hands, squeezing them between hers affectively. “Shar, listen to me; I need you to calm down and don’t panic,”

“Just get to the point!” Sharon snaps at the lack of answers. Her mind is creating the worst possible scenarios, all of them with the same end. “Please, tell me what happened.”

“Breathe in and out,” Katya says from behind, her hands holding her sides to forbid her from moving. Sharon tries to do what she says, she really does, but the air struggles to go across her lungs and her chest starts aching.

Her body shakes and she feels Katya hugging her tight. Trixie looks from her spot with something in her face that Sharon can swear is pity, and she _needs_ to know why Trixie feels pity for her.

“I’m sorry,” her voice breaks as she covers her mouth with the back of her hand, pulling back on the couch. “We never imagined this would happen so soon.”

Sharon sighs, letting go the air she didn’t noticed she was holding until now.

And then she realizes it.

That is it; the confirmation to one of those scenarios.

“But… how…”

“Her mom came for the body minutes before you woke up,” Katya whispers from behind.

 _The worst one_.

“No...” shaking her head, she stutters. “No. Just— no. This can’t be happening. She has to— she can’t be dead. She can’t!”

When her eyes water and her lungs are squeezed by anxiety and forced to let the little amount of air in them out, she’s amused her body still has some tears to shed. Soon her sobs are muffed by the fabric in Katya’s sweater soon and she has Trixie muttering things in her ear that she can’t even focus on. Her throat is burning from crying so hard and probably not drinking enough water these days, but she still manages to scream in agony.

She cries, she whimpers and sobs until her head aches, and even then she continues. She continues until the tears stop running out of her eyes and her cheeks feel funny for the dry drops on them. She continues until her face is numb from grimacing so hard. She continues until Trixie insists to take her home because they can’t stay in the hospital anymore.

She continues as she goes to Alaska’s room one more time, _the last time_ , carrying the suitcase to pack the few items that belonged to her girlfriend.

“Are you sure you want to do this alone?” Katya asks from the door.

Sharon wants to say no, because her vision is blurry and her legs are shaking and she feels like she could fall to the ground in any moment, but she nods and waves Katya away with her hand instead.

She stares at the room for a while once the Russian closes the door. It seems crazy to think she first entered nine months ago, thinking Alaska would be there only for a few days and then she would go out and be the same ball full of happiness Sharon loved.

Oh, how wrong she was. How helplessly wrong she was.

Walking to the bathroom, she starts taking Alaska’s belongings. Her mind wanders with memories like every time they had dinner on the bed, and every time she ran back home for a new book or magazine for Alaska to read and of course every time they watched a cheesy old movie in the small television hanging on the wall and all those times Alaska insisted for her to go home and sleep in their bed so her back wouldn’t hurt from lying on the couch.

Once her hands are full, Sharon sighs and walks back to the bed. She pulls everything carefully into the suitcase and turns around to go back and check if she took everything when a shiny reflection catches her attention.

Her vision tunnels to a little crucifix on the nightstand that she doesn’t remember seeing before. With no hesitation, she sits on the bed and takes the little object to toy with it.

“Well god, seems like Alaska forgot about your little chain here,” she snorts in a mocking tone, her sad countenance making it more like a sigh.

She doesn’t even know what she’s trying to achieve talking to someone that she has never thought was real, but passing the crucifix from one hand to another with the cross hanging between her fingers and admiring the bright golden material to imagine it on its place in Alaska’s neck makes it somehow easier.

“Why did you have to take her?” she whispers. “Why— from all the people in this world? Why my Alaska? She is mine! She is supposed to be here with me, she is supposed to be a singer— why the fuck did you take her!?”

Her fist clenches around the little cross suddenly, enough anger running through her veins to make her forget the little punch of pain that the cross pressing against the red marks the cigarette left on her hand last night makes. Her body moves automatically jumping out of the bed and before she can stop and think better of it, she’s heading to the window.

It’s open and big enough for Sharon to poke her head and part of her torso outside. She glances at the still wet street from the rain last night and the people walking under a sky full of clouds to any building near. The city looks grey and Sharon can just compare herself to it; after Alaska, who was her sun, the only thing left is rain and clouds.

Her eyes go up until they meet the same sky she saw last night, in a poor attempt to speak to god, in a poor attempt to make him help Alaska.

“God…”

Her hand is tight around the crucifix before she raises it in a fast move.

“You fucking vulture…”

The whispers run out her lips between her tighten teeth. Her arm moves back and forth and before she can realize, the crucifix is flying a few meters before it disappears of her sight. The aftertaste of her action comes just seconds after, a sour yet relaxing sensation covering her. With the crucifix being thrown meters away she feels just like a heavy weight has been removed from her shoulders.

“Please, bring her back… bring her back or take me with her, I don’t care, I just wanna be with her,” she begs to the sky.

Her cry is full of pain, but the clouds seem to not listen.

“God, please, bring her back. I need her. Please!”

The door opens in a sudden move and Katya storms into the room. She had been worried about the strangely long amount of time Sharon had been alone in the room, and when she heard screams, she knew something was happening.

She takes Sharon’s arm with all the strength she counts with to get her away from the window, the fear of seeing her jump from it being unavoidable as she drags her to the door.

“It’s fine,” she says, stopping to cope Sharon’s face and wipe the tears away with her fingers. “I’m gonna take you home.”

“No,” Sharon stutters. “I need to do this.”

“You need to rest and Trixie can pack, it’s fine. Let’s go home.”

Sharon wants to fight and say no and stay in the room because for now is everything that Alaska was in nine months, but she has fought enough, and her body is so tired she gives up and lets Katya guide her to the elevator.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” the receptionist says in their way to the door.

Katya stops and turns to her, her grip still in Sharon’s arm, nodding sadly. “Thank you.”

“She was a good girl,” the old lady comments casually, with a nod that proves that she’s very sure of her words. “She was very kind.”

 _She was_ , Sharon agrees silently. _She really was_.

-

“Oh my god. I still can’t believe it. It was— it was so sudden,” Jinkx runs the sleeve of her blouse on her cheeks to wipe the tears away, steadying herself. “We talked yesterday at the phone and she said she was fine. I don’t— I just don’t get it.”

Before getting in the car, Sharon had asked Katya to stop at Jinkx’s house to pick Cerrone up before they headed home with the excuse that she missed the cat and Katya accepted with no hesitation if that meant she could keep an eye on Sharon for more time. The trip was short, with Sharon looking through the window the whole time. It didn’t bother Katya, even when she tried so hard to build a conversation, turning the volume of the radio up and humming to the rhythm of any song after asking Sharon if she liked it.

Sharon never responded. But again, it didn’t bother Katya.

She stayed quiet until they reached Jinkx’s door. She was already outside before the car entered the street with Cerrone in her arms and her face made up in a wet mess with tears. As soon as she saw Sharon, she managed to hug her tightly with the cat between them until Katya pulled out of the car and joined their little reunion in Jinkx’s porch.

“It’s what doctors call _sudden death,_ ” Katya explains softly.

Besides her, Sharon runs a hand through Cerrone’s back, not very attentive of the conversation happening in front of her. The animal purrs and rubs his head against her neck, removing from his spot in her arms. She feels lost there, outside Jinkx’s house, something feels wrong.

Everything feels wrong.

“We should be going,” Katya says after a while. Sharon doesn’t know how much time it happened since they arrived, but the sky is breaking again and the thunders can only be a warning of another rain. “It was nice to come and say hi.”

Jinkx nods. She glances at Sharon one more time, pursing her lips in sorrow. “I’m sorry, honey. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.”

Sharon can only sigh. _I don’t even know what I’m going through_.

-

It’s late and Sharon knows she should be sleeping since tomorrow is the ceremony in Alaska’s memory —even when the told Katya that was a fucking funeral, Katya told her Alaska’s parents preferred to call it a ceremony— in that fucking church near their house, but no matter how much she tosses and turns under the covers, sleep isn’t any near from her.

Going back home from the hospital was always boring. Alaska wasn’t there, and the environment was excessively cold and Sharon always rushed to make herself a sandwich or have some cereal and take a shower to go back to the hospital, knowing Alaska would be there waiting for her.

But Alaska isn’t in the hospital anymore, and Sharon has to stand the stupid coldness and the empty spot in the bed. She preferred the hospital bed with no doubt, if that meant Alaska was there.

Cerrone seems to have missed her; the poor animal didn’t leave her side since they got home. Katya asked if she should stay, but Sharon shut the door in her face and locked herself in the bedroom, yelling she would see her tomorrow and taking the cat with her to the bed, where she sank under the covers to try and sleep, not caring if it was just four p.m.

Staring at the ceiling, she sighs and stop herself from thinking about how a couple of hours before she was in the same position. In the same position, but of course, Alaska was still there. Her nose was pressed against Sharon’s cheek and looking at the ceiling didn’t seem so pathetic because she wasn’t alone. But she’s staring at the ceiling again, this time with Cerrone in her stomach and Alaska’s pillow tight between her arms. Clearly cuddling a pillow isn’t the same as cuddling a human being, but Sharon can’t bring herself to notice the difference. She just needs something of Alaska to try and stop feeling so lost.

She finally gives up with the idea of getting any sleep as she pushes Alaska’s pillow away and sits straight on the bed with her back resting on the headboard. Cerrone jumps from his sleep and looks at her in disbelief, almost telling her out for waking him up.

“I’m sorry, little boy,” she chuckles sadly. “Go back to sleep.”

He hisses in anger, but still lies down on her lap and accepts her hand petting his head lovingly.

“You know, Cerrone…” the cat looks up back at his owner at the mention of his name. Sharon is looking at the depth of the room, not really at anything in specific. “I bet god was jealous.”

He meows before going back to his position with his head on Sharon’s leg, ready to sleep when she speaks again.

“God had to be jealous of me. Of the amazing life I had with Alaska. Of our relationship…” she swallows to hold the tears back, deciding she had cried enough today, and that she has more time to cry tomorrow before looking down at the cat. “What do you think, hm?”

The only response she gets is Cerrone tilting his head, maybe wondering why doesn’t she shut up and let him sleep.

She breathes a laugh. “Fucking look at me. Not even a day since Alaska is gone and I’m talking to animals and… to fucking god. I don’t even believe in him. I’m pathetic. Alaska would be laughing at me right now… maybe cuddling with me, and laughing… I can almost picture it. She would say something stupid like _I thought you didn’t believe in god_ and I’d say something like _shut the fuck up_ and… fuck Cerrone, I miss her.”

Being alone means she doesn’t have to muff her sobs, which reliefs her.

She takes the pillow again and hugs it tight against her chest.

But it’s too much. Too much of her own bedroom, too much knowing she used to share it with Alaska. Too much of the walls and the pictures hanging on them. Too much of today, of all her fears becoming true. Too much of Katya and Trixie’s attempts to make her feel better. Too much of Jinkx’s hugs. Too much of crying because she doesn’t know what to do. Too much of feeling lost and when that feeling finally disappears all left is suffocating. Too much of not having Alaska. Too much of knowing she would never be back and definitely too much of god.

She jumps out of the bed, making Cerrone snap to the other side of the bed, but her lungs fighting for air don’t let her care about her pet. She rushes to take her purse and grasp in the little pocket inside for her sleeping pills, but with the only light in the room turned off her eyes can’t do much as she fumbles in the purse.

She sighs in relief when she finally feels the little plastic bottle. She takes only one, but then looks back and after thinking better of it she grabs another one before running to the kitchen for water. She doesn’t care if those pills are dangerous and Alaska hated every time she took them to sleep at the hospital with the excuse that the couch was too firm to sleep well on it. Sharon knows the risks, but she knows there’s no point in worrying about them if she doesn’t have anyone to worry about her anymore.

Pills surely running down her throat, she throws the little bottle away and lies down on the bed with Alaska’s pillow pressing against her ruined face for the few minutes she just manages to whimper and cry until the pills do their job and the sleep dominates her.

-

Sharon hadn’t overslept since Alaska got sick.

For the first time in months, she slept a complete night —and more than that— with no pauses.

Trixie’s call woke her up the next morning. When she saw the clock hanging in her wall her eyes almost jumped out her head, noticing she slept from 6 p.m. to 8 a.m.

“ _It’s fine, you needed them,_ ” her friend told her on the phone, and she really tried to believe it. “ _I’m gonna pick you up at 8:30 to go to church at 9, is it fine?_ ”

“Church?” Sharon asked in disbelief, running to the bathroom to take a quick cold shower that surely would take all numb in her away.

“ _Alaska’s ceremony, Shar,_ ” Trixie sighed. “ _Her parents expect you to be there._ ”

Sharon cursed under her breath as she started the shower with the coldest temperature her body could stand. “Sure. Sorry, I forgot.”

“ _8:30 then?_ ”

“8:30 then.”

“ _See you. And please… eat something._ ”

She did. She got dry bread and an expired instant soup and rushed to brush her teeth. She put on that black pencil skirt that was thrown and forgotten in the back of her wardrobe and a black blouse with the last button missing that she picked it anyways because it was the only simple black top she owned and she couldn’t disappoint Alaska’s parents with a band shirt. She rushed to hide the end of the blouse under her skirt before Trixie’s car stopped in front of the house. She didn’t want them to think their little precious daughter had been living with a dreadful witch, even if she did.

She tied her hair up in a tight bun and kissed Cerrone’s little head before grabbing her purse.

“For Alaska,” she muttered to herself and stepped out of the house, somehow feeling just as lost and terrified as she did the day before.

The way to church was like a flash. She found herself in Trixie’s car and from a moment to another she was walking inside the huge white building. Everyone around her seemed broken, just like she was, and everyone greeted her with a sad smile. Alaska’s parents —who even when Sharon tried to please really hard, never talked to very deeply— had gaunt faces and tear stained cheeks.

“We have to be together in this,” her mother had said, hugging Sharon with so much force she felt all the air in her lungs going out.

Her father squeezed her hand to tight when he shook it, but Sharon didn’t care about the slight pain in her fingers. She took her seat between Katya and Jinkx and listened to everything that the priest had to say. Exactly where she is, listening to a man she has never spoken to before talking about her girlfriend and glancing at the coffin a few meters from her, wondering if she is brave enough to go and look at Alaska’s body one more time after the ceremony.

_No, I’m not._

“Hey, you’re wearing heels,” Katya notices with surprise from her side in a whisper, leaning into Sharon’s ear so nobody near them could hear.

She looks at her over her shoulder for a second when she catches her attention, nodding shortly. “Alaska’s parents don’t like boots… they think they’re too punk.”

Katya nods with a little grin. She sighs and fakes looking around before turning to Sharon again.

“And you look better than yesterday.”

“Really? It must be the skirt, I still feel like shit.”

Katya’s smile banishes in only a second.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Sharon shakes her head with her eyes on the coffin.

“In her last days of life, our Alaska was suffering. She’s in heaven now, a better place, with god taking care of her,” the priest says, and the entire church nods quietly. “In a place where she won’t suffer anymore…”

Sharon decides to play dumb the rest of the ceremony and play that listening about Alaska doesn’t hurt. She wants to show that at least she’s trying not to burst in tears hugging the coffin, she wants Alaska’s family and their friends to know she can handle this.

Even when she knows she can’t.

There’s a strong feeling in her chest, pressing against her lungs and making breathing a very hard task since yesterday and it doesn’t matter what she does because that fucking feeling is not going away, but she tries. She tries because she made Alaska a promise, and no matter how hard it hurt or how much she wants to make sleeping pills rain on her mouth until she never wakes up, she’ll keep her promise. _For Alaska_. Only for her.

Thinking about Alaska passed from worrying Sharon to water her eyes. It’s not a sweet reminder of what lights up her life anymore.

“… Sharon, would you mind to come here?”

She blinks. Looking around quickly, she realizes everybody in the church is looking at her and Katya pokes her ribs in a silent way to catch her attention. The priest is holding the microphone out with a little smile, glancing at her like if he’s waiting for something and Sharon can only blush and sink into her seat in embarrassment.

“What…”

Alaska’s mother leans forward from her seat to whisper in her ear. “The priest wanted some people important in Alaska’s life to speak up a little about her. He chose you,”

“Oh,” is all she says.

“Do you feel comfortable going up there, darling?” the lady asks, and Sharon feels a warm feeling extending over her stomach.

“Yeah,” she sighs before looking at the priest again, nodding slightly. “I’m coming.”

The nerves flood her mind as soon as she stands up and walks over the little stage at the back of the church, but once she’s there, everything she can think of is Alaska. Like it has always been.

“I didn’t prepare anything,” she whispers to the priest.

“It’s okay,” he smiles. “Just say what your heart wants to say.”

She takes the microphone with a shaky hand and her heart pounding in her chest so hard and nods at the priest, who walks out to give her some space. She wants to lean and try to peek over the coffin just because the curiosity is killing her and she needs to know how Alaska looks like to try to print her imagine in her memory forever, but she desists and looks at the people instead.

Everyone who loved Alaska as much as she did in just one place.

“I… I met Alaska five years ago,” she swallows hard. Trixie is smiling at her with something that Sharon can describe as pride. She turns and Jinkx is too busy crying to listen at her, but Katya gives her a thumb up to encourage her to go on. “My friend Courtney invited me to a party for New Years Day while I was in Los Angeles visiting my other friends Katya and Trixie. I thought about not going, but for some reason, I did at last minute. And because she was there, dancing and drinking around. When I saw her I could just think she was the most beautiful woman to ever step on the entire universe. Then Courtney introduced us and we... we just did click.”

Sharon’s shoulders fall when the church coves in aw’s.

“We gave each other our numbers. I told her I was supposed to fly back to Pittsburgh in two days, but she didn’t give a fu— she didn’t care. She said _that’s what cellphones were invented for_ and… I guess that’s how it all started. Being in Pittsburgh, I couldn’t stand the distance, and six months after we started dating I moved to her house here. She told me she wanted to be a singer, and I told her I was a wannabe artist,” she nods when everybody giggles. “She was my biggest fan. She would beg to me to make the designs for her demo songs, and of course I did.”

She realizes the tears are already falling down her cheeks, but she sighs, determined to continue.

“Alaska was like a tidal wave in my life. She just came and knocked down everything that I used to know… but I’m glad she did so, because before my life used to be the worst. She took all the pain and… waved it away. She made me feel whole, alive. She was everything I needed and I just…”

Sharon holds herself together, even though her lip is shaking and her voice cracks. She _has_ to do this. _For Alaska_. She sighs, closing her eyes for a minute and breathing in as hard as she can.

“Is hard imagining a life without her. Without her laugh, or advices, or hugs, or voice. I refused to do it for nine months. Back then I didn’t know living without her is way harder than imagining it, but we all have to do it, and we have to do it as Alaska would like it to be. I won’t come here and tell you what you already know; that she was sick, she was doomed to a bed with wires all across her arms and a tumor in her body. We know how tired and weak she was, but we also know how Alaska wanted us to remember her,” she glances at the back to find Alaska’s parents crying, looking directly at her. “The last night, Alaska told me she didn’t want to die, but that she was ready to go if those were god’s plans for her.”

A cry echoes across the room and Alaska’s mother hugs her husband tightly, burying her face into his suit.

“We have to remember her as happy as she was. Smiling, making a fool of herself so we all could have a laugh. We all know how much she worried about the people around her. She cared even about the people she didn’t know. She was loving, talented, brilliant and so, so smart. So I say, let’s remember her as she would love to be remembered: with the best of herself. Let’s appreciate all the memories we have, even if they hurt, they’re all we have now.”

She walks to the coffin a few steps away, her eyes finally meeting the motionless body of Alaska.

“She was the tidal wave that my life needed, and I’ll never forget her. I’ll miss her every day of my life as I look at her pictures and remember everything we did together.”

Placing a hand on the glass, she caresses it above Alaska’s cheek. The old, grey cheek that once was red from laughing so hard, from smiling so hard.

“Alaska always tried to talk to god. I used to hear her talking to him after praying every night… and knowing that she is with him in heaven, because there’s no other place where she belongs, I’m happy she can finally talk to him,” she stares at the glass, her lips curling into a smile. “I hope she talks about her life here and how much she enjoyed it to him. I hope she talks about me, and her family and friends, and everything she achieved here.”

A tear falls over the glass over Alaska’s face, Sharon’s hand rubbing it away immediately.

“I’ve never tried to talk to god until a few nights ago, although I don’t think he listened. I don’t blame him, I’m not the best person to be heard, I’ve been wicked almost all my life… but now I just want to ask him for something.”

Her eyes slowly go up to the ceiling.

“God, if you’re there… please tell Alaska how much I love her.”


End file.
